Somewhere far, far away
by unmeiblue
Summary: An alternate universe retelling of the S-season -- this time from Hotaru's point of view.


[note : this is my very first attempt at fan fiction writing. please feel free to criticize all you want. compliments are good too, but not expected. ^-^; Anyway, like the summary says, this is an alternate univerise retelling of the Sailormoon S season from Hotaru's point of view. Although it's not finished at the moment, I promise I'll get around to it eventually. Oh, and, for future references, I do not claim to own the rights to the anime/manga Bishojo Senshi Sailormoon... I'm just a fan writing for other fans (aren't we all, tho?). And, without further adieu, the queen of disclaimers (mainly me) will now be quiet]  
  
Somewhere far, far away  
  
I remember the cold wind whipped my short black hair, stinging my face slightly, as I walked home that day. The air was restless, as was my mind, and I remember wishing that it would've rained all day. I was returning from another day of my life, and I knew that I'd be staying in an empty house for the rest of the evening. Papa was always down in his laboratory doing his usual experiments. Even if I had wanted to, I never saw him. And when I did, we never knew what to say. It was kind of sad, especially since I can remember how well we used to get along.  
  
Maybe it's just the way I am, but I hated being at home. Maybe it was Papa and maybe it was the overwhelming emptiness... I don't know. I hated it all the same. Not as much as being at school, I'll admit, but I can't say I ever like it. And life? Well, it's just kind of there.  
  
At least when I was at school, though, I could forget some of my worries and troubles - all by concentrating on my studies. I guess I get fairly good grades, simply due to lack of anything better to do with my time. That's maybe one reason I've never been popular at school -- I'm smart for my age and people always hold grudges. I'm also the quiet type and I usually won't say anything unless absolutely necessary.  
  
Maybe that's why, when people say they think I'm strange, I usually agree. I've always been different, for whatever the reason. Ever since I was a child, I can remember feeling this way, and especially since I discovered that I had the ability to heal people just by touching them. No one's ever been able to explain how I can do it -- it's almost like magic. It's always come easily to me.   
  
That's why I've always wanted to become a nurse, so I can help people... even if it means helping people that honestly couldn't care less about me. My ability doesn't come without its consequences, however, as most things do. As a way of equally itself out, I also have a very weak body. I'm also very thin for my age, and although I'm not short, I could hardly be considered tall. I also get sick often, and have trouble breathing at times. It's kind of like a double-edged sword, I guess.  
  
Anyway, I opened the gate and walked the long path to get to the front door. I reached into my plaid schoolbag, pulling out a set of house keys. I remember I was just about to put the key into the keyhole when I realized that the door was already being opened. A tall woman with long red hair smiled distantly at me as I looked up at her.   
  
It was Kaorinite, or Kaori-kun, as Papa liked to call her. She was my mother, or at least, that's what my father had always wished her to be. She was his secretary and lab assistant, and ever since the lab explosion so many years ago that killed my mother Keiko, she'd taken it upon herself to help our family out. I hated her from the beginning.  
  
"Late as usual, aren't you? My, my, Hotaru-chan, whatever are we going to do with you? I want you to tell me the next time you're going to get home. I worry about you, you know." she said, mimicking a tone that a mother would use when speaking to a young child.   
  
"Why should you worry?" I replied, pushing past her into the house.   
  
"Hotaru-chan! Come back here! I'm not done talking to you!" I turned around slowly, knowing that I would have to listen to another one of her lectures.  
  
When she was sure of my attention, she continued, "You know, ever since your mother died, I've been taking care of you. I wish you'd try and be a little appreciative sometimes. Your father needs your full cooperation and if you don't start showing a little more respect to me, I'll make sure you'll be sorry." I felt my face redden out of frustration.  
  
"I never asked you to! I've never wanted your help, don't you see? You came uninvited into my life, thinking that you can replace Mama! You're even trying to win Papa's heart by dressing like a slut! I hate you!" I whirled around once again, and although I felt her piercing glance as I ran, I didn't turn around again. I raced up the stairs to my bedroom, and quickly locked the door behind me.  
  
Entering my dark room was always comforting to me. I sighed, feeling relieved. It had many lamps and unlit candles, all made especially for the sole purpose of only giving off a small amount of light. It created a dimming affect, and overall, it resembled the beautiful fireflies for which I was named after. I loved things like that - bright lights shimmering in dark places.  
  
I remember from long ago, I used to dream that I was one of those lights. When I was younger, my light had been so strong. Over the years, however, it had slowly been going out. And now, as I walked straight to my bed, and lay my face onto my pillow, I knew that I was no firefly. That was my reality and my destiny, and I should know better than to challenge my fate. I was just another dying light in a silent universe...  
  
I must have gone to sleep shortly after that, because the next thing I remember was waking up to Kaori-kun's knocking. I automatically crammed my feet into my favorite rabbit slippers, and walked to go open the door. Unlocking it quickly, I cracked the door open just enough to see the elder woman looking down at me.   
  
"I've brought you some dinner," she said sweetly - almost too sweetly - and proceeded into my room. She walked over to clear room on my small table to make room for the soup. It seemed innocent enough, but as I watched her violently shove everything off the table, I knew that this had been her very plan. My amulet, which had been sitting there just a moment ago, shattered onto the floor -- her revenge for my words earlier.  
  
This time, however, she must have known she had overdone it. I had never seen her look so happy. And for that, she must've known that I would never again forgive her. She had succeeded in destroying perhaps the only thing I had ever held dear to me - my mother's amulet. It was my good luck charm and it had always been with me. Kaorinite, instead of racing back out the door from where she came from and attempting to at least make it look like an accident, had apparently decided to take advantage of my lack of words.  
  
With a simple "oops", she flashed me a satisfied smile. "You should be more careful next time, Hotaru-chan. Really, you can be so clumsy at times, breaking your dear mother's amulet...whatever were you thinking?" and quickly left the room. It was only until after I heard the door click behind her that I realized I had not spoken a word to her - either of false gratitude or of anger. As I quietly knelt down near the table, examining the once beautiful pendant, unshed tears filled my eyes. All the while, steam rising as my favorite soba noodles cooled.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The next day, being Sunday, meant that I could sleep in a little bit, if I wished. Unfortunately, that was not the way it worked out, and as I lay there with my eyes open, staring out the window, I decided that I needed to get out of the house. I can't stay here anymore. Where could I go, though? I glanced at my small alarm clock -- only 7:30 AM. Still early, I thought, as I pulled myself out of bed. Stumbling over to my mirror, I quickly ran a brush through my thick black hair. Perhaps I'll just go for a walk.  
  
I'll admit that it was kind of strange of me to simply want to walk around, but I needed some time to think. Maybe I thought something might happen if I did. So, I pulled on my favorite knee-high socks, a small black skirt, and a long-sleeved top. As I sat lacing up my small black boots, I remembered how a foreign student had once commented on how this exact outfit.   
  
She claimed that my fashion sense, if I had lived in America, would be described as "Gothic". I had smiled politely, even though I didn't know what the term meant at the time. Nowadays, even though I still try to be original, I've decided that the name *does* fit well. On the other hand, however, it shouldn't really matter what anyone else thinks about it. What's in a name or a fashion? This is the way I am and it's the way I like to dress. I'm not trying to make a statement.  
  
My thoughts strayed elsewhere, however, as I glanced at my clock again. This time it said 7:42. I had finished getting ready in a matter of only 12 minutes -- a record for being a weekend. I grabbed my coat and crept out of my room and outside onto the street. Gazing at the passing pedestrians, I unconsciously decided to let my boots take me where they willed. Where I wanted to go, or how far I'd have to walk, I didn't care. All that mattered is that my path led me to somewhere far, far away. 


End file.
